


Words from my broken jaw

by CapitalM



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: But he's still Red Hood, Jason was never picked up by Batman, Kinda, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Unhealthy Relationships, not a hero anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-09-20 22:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9518327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapitalM/pseuds/CapitalM
Summary: A soul mark develops when two soulmates touch each other for the first time, in the place they first touch, which is excellent when you're involved in a fist fight with a vigilante.Jason finds out Nightwing's secret identity in the worst way possible, being branded with it.





	1. Confusing Patterns

Jason’s just minding his business really, leaning against his car, watching the guys who are paying him to get them in and out safely while they rob a jewellery store with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop and sucking down a cheap cigarette when he catches a flicker of movement that tells him it’s about time to get the guys out.

“Yo, we got company, wrap it up.” He says into the fucking walkie-talkie these assholes insisted on using, flinching when the little box lets out a screech of static.

“We might as well be old friends by now, Red.” Nightwing says from above him, and Jason is honestly impressed that he can land so quietly on the roof of a car. “I’m a little offended that you haven’t introduced me to your new friends.”

Jason snorts before flicking his cigarette and hovering his hand over the gun tucked into his waistband. “You’re not the kind of friend I brag about, birdy.” In fact, if _anyone_ knew how often Bludhaven’s favourite hero had dropped in on his business, he’d be out of a job. “Why don’t you go bother someone else before this gets too messy?”

Nightwing throws his head back and laughs at that, “I like ruining your fun _way_ too much to stop now, Red.”

Jason doesn’t wait for the vigilante to stop laughing before he whips around and fires a couple of shots which the fucking contortionist just seems to curve around.

It gets Nightwing’s attention though, makes him stop running his mouth and flip from the car with a fistful of throwing discs. “No time for chatting then, Big Red?” Nightwing grins, and it’s sharp at the edges in a way that promises Jason how he’s not going easy on him this time.

He fires the rest of his clip at the man, forcing the hero to dodge back and forth as he all but flies towards him, then throws the gun, hitting the other man in the chin.

“What the fuck, Red! That was a dirty mov-” He uses the surprise to land a solid hit against the side of the vigilante’s jaw, yelling as it sends what feels like 80 volts straight to his bloodstream, forcing him to his knees; through his throbbing vision he sees Nightwing crumple too.

He comes around fast, figuring that if Nightwing’s suit uses the blast of electricity as a line of defence, he doesn’t want the asshole dragging him away while he waits for the humming in his ears to stop. He can see Nightwing pulling himself up too and takes the chance to take stock of what exactly just hit him from out of nowhere.

There’s no damage to his clothes, his skin doesn’t have any burns, but his knuckles throb and as he looks at them he almost crumples again. He rubs at the name that’s just branded itself across his knuckles, even though he knows it’s a bone deep, irreversible, shit stain that’s just turned his whole existence into a joke.

Until it dawns on him, fast, and he reads out the name that’s branded across his knuckles like it’s the first time he’s ever seen the name, “Richard Grayson?”

Nightwing stumbles halfway through a move that was most certainly made to lay Jason on his ass; “What did you say?”

He sees the horror in the way Nightwing’s jaw tenses, can see the dark lines of his own name stretching across the vigilante’s cheek like a tattoo. “My soul mark.” He grins, holding his busted knuckles up in the dim streetlight and watching the way the other man lifts a hand to his cheek and stumbles back with a vicious pleasure. “You’re busted, birdy.”

 

 ***

 

Nightwing doesn’t even try to fight him after that, just runs away, and it’s not like Jason ever really thought he’d have a soulmate, but as a kid he certainly hadn’t pictured the occasion like _this_. He can’t stop thinking about the other man, can’t stop looking at his bruised knuckles and pressing on the letters just to feel the dull aftermath of smashing his soulmate across the face

Yeah, so he’d kind of insinuated that he was gonna use the guy’s secret identity against him, but he’d really thought that if Nightwing could dodge his bullets he could handle a little threat.

He’s so preoccupied with the mark that he jumps when the walkie-talkie he’d dropped during the whole soulmate thing crackles to life, “Hey man, what’s the deal, we good to get the fuck outta here?” He scowls down at the cheap plastic toy like it’s gonna make the clown on the other end shut up, “Mr. Hood? Red? C’mon dude, answer me!”

He snatches the piece of plastic off the ground and snarls into it; “In future if I’m not answering you it’s because I’m saving your fuckin' ass.”

Silence stretches a couple of long seconds before the walkie-talkie starts again, “So we cool, or-” The cheap toy cracks against the ground when Jason throws it and smashes into a million pieces when he stomps a heavy boot down on it before climbing back into his car.

“Fucking amateurs.” He hisses, tugging a spare pair of motorcycle gloves over his new mark, and starting the car up with an aggressive rev of the engine to pickup the luckiest idiot jewel thieves in Gotham.


	2. Pollyanna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm still alive!  
> Left my laptop in another country so I'm writing on my phone so I apologise for any errors or bad formatting!! Okay, hope you enjoy!
> 
> (I know it's short, I'm sorry, I'll do better haha)

When Hood punches him he knows something is wrong; they’ve fought before and he’s never packed a punch like that. He thinks for a moment that maybe they’ve both been hit by another party, maybe they’re just in the middle of something bigger, but then the guy is getting to his feet and staring at his hand.

Dick doesn’t have time to waste wondering about what he’s doing, he’s seen the guy take out people even he would have trouble with, so he uses the distraction to come at him again, aiming to kick his feet out from under him and even the playing field.

“Richard Grayson?” Hood’s voice comes out smooth, and Dick almost falls over, stumbling to a stop in front of the big man.

“What did you say?” He’s impressed his voice comes out even because his stomach has dropped and suddenly he feels dizzy. He clenches his jaw to quell the urge to throw up on the guy’s boots and feels the ache in it from the solid hit he’d been dealt. 

Hood is grinning, and Dick feels dread like he’s never felt it before settle in his stomach, “my soul mark.” He holds his hand up and sure enough Dick can see his name printed in his own wonky handwriting. 

He’s starting to feel panic rising through him, this isn’t the first-time Hood has landed a punch on him, surely in all the times they’ve fought there had been skin contact. Maybe he pre prepared the situation, maybe it’s not what it seems.

He lifts a hand to his cheek and runs it down to his jaw, rationally he knows that soul marks aren’t any different from normal skin but he swears he can feel it, hot and painful, deep in his skin.

“You’re busted, birdy.” Hood says with a horrible looking grin on his face.

Dick bolts.

He doesn’t know where he’s running to, doesn’t even know if Hood is following him or not, but he runs through the alley ways he knows so well until he can’t remember where he is and then shoots a line up to the top of the nearest building.

His breath is coming in short, fast gasps and he’s pretty sure this is a panic attack, but he can’t call anyone; the thought of Bruce, Tim, or God forbid, Damian, seeing him like this just makes his heart beat faster.

He collapses on the roof, back pressing into the rough asphalt, pushing the heels of his hands so hard against his eyes that he almost can’t take the pressure, but feels like if he lets go the tears won’t stop. He gasps some more, feeling thoroughly pathetic, and finally lets his hands fall to his side.  
For the second time in his life he really doesn’t know if he’ll be alright.

 

As soon as he calms down enough to get back to his feet, and trusts himself to jump from the building and actually shoot a line to stop himself from hitting the ground, he makes his way back to his apartment; not the penthouse that Dick Grayson owns, but his favourite, paid for in cash, shit hole apartment right on the edge of the narrows. 

The neighbourhood is just starting to wake up so he drops in through the bathroom window that doesn’t close properly rather than using the roof access like normal.  
He leans his forehead against the frosted glass and breathes out in one long puff before pushing against the window frame and pulling off his domino. He ignores the way the warm air of the alley outside makes the tear stained skin beneath his mask feel gritty and dirty and splashes a couple handfuls of water on his face.

He glances up catching sight of the dark bruise on his jaw and the darker lines of his new mark right in the middle. He’s frozen for a moment before he runs his fingers over the letters, tracing the small, odd, handwriting.

“Jason Todd,” he whispers, not ready to pull his hand away yet. Even though it’s not the type of name or the type of place he had expected the mark to show up on, he can’t help but feel a cautious spark in between the panic.

He pulls his hand away and activates the comm still heavy in his ear, “Batman, I need help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want everyone to know I read and love your comments and am totally too nervous to actually reply - BUT YOU'RE THE REASON I HAVEN'T GIVEN UP ON THIS LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH XOXOXO


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce isn’t gentle when he grips Dick’s chin and yanks it towards him, but Dick doesn’t flinch until the older man presses his thumb into the dark bruise.

“It doesn’t come off, Bruce.” He pushes his foster father’s hand away, “I’ve tried.”

Bruce grunts but shows remarkable tact, stepping away, pressing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, no doubt clenching them into fists. “You say this Jason Todd is Red Hood?”

“It’s his name on my face, isn’t it?” He knows it’s not fair to Bruce, but really at this stage he doesn’t really feel like there’s much fairness in the world so he could care less. He sighs and let’s his eyes close against the look Bruce shoots him. “What do I do?”

“We can cover it for now-“

“I’m not the only one with a name printed on me, what are we going to do when he comes forward?” He snaps, cutting Bruce off.

“Dick.” Bruce glares at him and Dick glares right back, holding his gaze until his eyes start to sting and he’s forced to blink away the blurriness.

“Fine, what?”

“We can cover it for now, find Todd, and detain him until there’s a better alternative.”

Dick laughs, he can’t help it even though he knows it sounds hollow and Bruce is probably using his breakdown to diagnose him with PTSD or something. “Yeah okay, I’ve been tracking Hood for eight months and he hasn’t had a consistent home base in all that time; but I’m sure you’ll find him just fine.”

Bruce starts to say something but Dick lifts his hands and stops whatever is about to come out of his mouth. “How about we just shelve the ‘detainment’ idea and get back to the cover up part?”

He thinks, for a moment, that Bruce is going to argue, but the older man physically swallows his words and starts again. “It won’t be too difficult to cover, but we will have to plan your social appearances more strictly.” He pauses and looks like he’s fortifying himself, “and no patrol until we figure out a solution.”

He knew it was coming, but it makes him feel cold to the core anyway. “How long?” He sighs softly, watching Bruce sort through little bottles of concealer and a small mountain of sponges.

Bruce doesn’t pause in his search for a perfect skin match but Dick can see his shoulders tense, “This is permanent Dick.” Bruce finds the bottle with Dick’s name on it, pours a little onto a sponge, and studiously avoids looking in Dick’s direction. “After a period of adjustment to your new… mark, we’ll talk about a new uniform, perhaps a new identity.”

If he felt cold before, he feels frozen now. “I-I worked hard on Nightwing, I can’t lose it! I can’t give up a part of me like that, I can’t just change!”

If he wasn’t about to lose a part of his identity, he’d marvel at Bruce’s ability to look at him and absolutely ignore him at the same time. “It’s not the first time you’ve changed.” He mumbles, digging his fingers into Dick’s chin to stop the response Dick is about to shout in his face. “It’s not fair, it’s not what you wanted but it’s a reality.” He dabs the sponge across Dick’s cheek bone softly, far gentler than his words.

They sit in silence for a long stretch, the little taps of the sponge and the dull ache of the bruise beneath it putting Dick into a weird headspace, before Bruce leans back and clears his throat. “This should hold up to scrutiny, and it’s nothing you can’t do yourself.” Dick nods dumbly, and Bruce watches him for a moment, “Go look.”

He stands and makes his way to the bathroom, not sure if he’ll be happy or sad to see the mark gone. He can see the way his skin smooths out across the section with the heaviest make up, but Bruce did a good job and he’s sure It’ll hold up.

It still feels wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably won't have another update next week because of crazy schedules but I'm gonna try to make the next chapter bigger and more pivotal! Jason's POV next oooooooo  
> Sorry for any mistakes, I'm still writing without a laptop
> 
> p.s. still love you all


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as he can, Jason hides himself away in the safe house he uses the least, a big apartment in the heart of Gotham, the last place a minor gunrunner would probably hide. He’s got enough food for two weeks, as long as he’s happy with tinned spaghetti, a good computer set up, and nothing but time to plan his next move.

He’s certain that the whole bat-brigade will be on his tail, so he’ll have to lay low, and who knows what kind of search terms they’ve got hooked up to alerts. He figures he’ll be safe searching old magazine archives and seemingly benign search terms; the kind of thing a teenage girl with a thing for billionaire heirs might search if she wanted a new poster.

He gets through about ten pages of a Dick Grayson fan blog before he finds scans of a yellowing issue of ‘Seventeen’ with a very early 00s shot of Dick smouldering into the lens, backwards cap and all. The article is just a Q&A thing that Jason isn’t sure a P.A. didn’t write but it says more than anything else he’s been able to find on the surprisingly private socialite.

So after four hours all he’s found out is that Dick likes strawberry milkshakes and smart girls, neither of which are things Jason can say he’s anything like. He sighs to the empty room and looks down at his hands. As far as soul marks go, it’s an ugly one; ‘Richard’ is across his knuckles barely skimming the base of his fingers, and ‘Grayson’ is stamped across them so when he opens his hand it distorts and may as well read ‘Richard Garbageman’.

He knows it won’t come off, and deep down he knows he’s lucky, the dude is a catch; rich, good looking, a _hero_... But during the very small moments he’d let himself think of a who his future soulmate would be, he’d never cared much about any of those things; the one constant was that _she_ had always been a bit like his mother before the drugs and that was not a rich boy with a leather fetish.

He’s never found another man attractive before, but he supposes that he’s never given it a chance either. All he can see when he looks at Dick is the tiny difference in colour in his teeth that betrays a false tooth, the small tilt of his nose that’s an excellently set break, and the loose curl of his fingers that looks like an old injury that never healed right. He’s an attractive man, Jason knows that objectively, but he’s not sure that he’s attracted _to_ him.

It’s confusing and he’s far too unstable not to let his anger overwhelm him, he lets it wash over him, let’s himself really feel the injustice of finding the other half of his soul and being unattracted to him not to mention at risk of arrest and a life sentence if he comes forward. As far as how Dick might feel about it, he’s sure he’s not thrilled about being tied to a murderer, gun runner, drug dealer, and minor gang lord; not to mention the asshole who’d definitely been the cause of at least a few of the missing teeth and surely a lot of frustration.

He knows that if he keeps feeling sorry for himself he’ll do something stupid like he usually does when the anger overtakes him. The first time he’d met Nightwing had been during one of his rages, he barely remembers it, but he’s certain that Nightwing remembers it just fine; he’s certainly never underestimated him since, for better or worse.

Two weeks is too much time off, he can already feel himself itching to confront his soulmate; whether to fight him again or come to some kind of arrangement he’s not sure. He knows that if he lets his emotions get to him, whatever is coming is gonna come fast so he lets himself calm down and think rationally about his plan and what comes next.

It’s gonna be a hell of a reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm so sorry this is so late! (and short ;'( )  
> I am in awe of the response, you're all amazing... AMAZING!!  
> My life has calmed down a lot now so I will be updating more regularly and finally replying to comments (sorry I'm a bit shit haha)  
> If anyone would like to be help me beta this I would be so so grateful...
> 
> ok, ok, I hope everyone is still enjoying it, I wrote this chapter 3 times completely different every time haha so hopefully I went with the right one! Love you all!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all like it, I've had this idea for yonksssssssss but I'm on holidays now so I finally have time to write it!
> 
> I'm bad at finishing stories BUT I WILL DO IT WITH THIS ONE. I W I L L.


End file.
